


The Fake Engagement

by ikkiM



Series: Scenes in Search of a Fic [10]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, fake engagement, unfinished fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-18
Updated: 2016-05-06
Packaged: 2018-05-27 13:03:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6285781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ikkiM/pseuds/ikkiM
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The title explains it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Jaime Invites Himself Along

**Author's Note:**

> More of the Scenes in Search. This bit is the big fake engagement. It has some funny parts, I promise.

Jaime sat on Brienne’s bed fiddling with her shoes and trying not to scowl. Brienne was going out. Without him. With Renly. Her ex-boyfriend.

“So, where exactly are you going?” he asked again. Maybe this time she’d invite him along. It could be like a date. A _test_ date.

“Margaery, Renly and Loras are Lannisport. We are meeting at a club. Margaery said there will be dancing,” she answered.

He discarded the strappy heel, not enough support for dancing.

“Renly. You used to live with him right?”

Brienne sighed. “Yes. For two years. I lived with Renly. And for the last year, Margaery’s brother, Loras, lived with us. You know this.”

“So, explain to me again the sleeping arrangements?”

Brienne turned pink. “I never explained the sleeping arrangement in the first place. Are you sure this is the right dress?”

He again assessed the dress she was wearing, blue, silk, skirt to just below the knee but with a slit up to mid-thigh, backless so that the material draped softly at the base of her spine. He spent plenty of time insulting her taste in clothing to the point that she just wore what she was told. He quite liked her trust in him. Still, she looked far too good to be spending time with Renly.

“What _were_ the sleeping arrangements?”

“It was a one bedroom with a loft. Which shoes?”

Lofts were small. “So Loras had to listen to the sound of you fucking Renly?” he asked.

Brienne turned pink and averted her eyes. “Which shoes, Jaime?”

He waved a basic pump her direction. He tried pushing her for more information. Maybe if he made outrageous suggestions, she might let something slip. “Did Loras join in? Did you fuck them both, wench? I suppose you’re woman enough for two.” He eyed her up and down.

She turned a darker shade of pink. “Give me the shoes. I need to leave.”

“So did you dump him or did he dump you?” Jaime asked.

The abrupt change of subject caught her off guard. “What?”

“Renly Baratheon. Did he dump your or did you dump him? Who broke whose heart?” He didn’t think her heart had been broken. She didn’t act weepy or forlorn when she spoke of Renly. Maybe she hadn't truly cared for him. Jaime smiled at the thought.

The blush started at the base of Brienne's neck and worked its way up. She averted her eyes. “No one dumped anyone. With my graduation and relocation here and Renly moving to Storm’s End, it was just time to end things. You know he and I are still friends.”

Jaime tried to push another button, see what he could get her to reveal. “Exes can’t be friends, wench. You can’t be friends with someone you used to fuck.”

She surprised him by looking him full in the face. “Why not?” Her brown crinkled.

“Because you’re always thinking about how you used to fuck.” He thought about her fucking Renly all the time.

“Renly and I still talk at least twice each week.”

He hadn’t known that. He pushed harder. “Phone sex?”

The blush returned. “No. Not every conversation has to be about,” her voice dropped to a whisper, “sex.”

“So you and Renly don’t talk about sex?” That pleased him.

She rolled her eyes “Give me that shoe.”

“You talk to _me_ about sex. Why not Renly?” He wanted that shade of pink back. His tablet was downstairs. He'd have to match it later.

“You might not have noticed this, Jaime, but you talk about it and I ignore you.” She reached for her shoe and he held it away.

She was right. He flirted with her. She didn’t flirt back. _Why didn't she flirt back?_ He would hold her hand, put his arm around her, rested his hand on the small of her back. She never pushed him away, but she never initiated a touch either, unless it was a smack. She blushed for him, but she blushed for everyone. Those blushes should be just for him. “Who else is going to be there?”

Brienne rolled her eyes. “I don’t have the complete guest list.” She started ticking off names. “Margaery, Renly, Loras, Theon and Roose Bolton’s son. I think that's it.”

“Ramsay? Ramsay Bolton?” Jaime shot up from the bed.

“Yeah, I think that’s his name. Why, do you know him? Margaery says he's cute."

“Wench, you are not going out with Ramsay Bolton. _Ever_.” He heard rumors about Ramsay, how he liked to tattoo women after he slept with them, to mark them as his own. Ramsay Bolton had a skin fetish and Brienne had such an expense of freckled skin. Maybe she should wear a sweater. Or long johns.

She grabbed the shoe he was holding. “What’s wrong with him?” She hit his shoulder with her shoe absent-mindedly. “My name is Brienne.”

“Ramsay likes to give women tattoos.” A memory of Theon Greyjoy showing off a new tattoo skidded across his brain, maybe not just women.

She turned pink. “I’m not going to get a tattoo. I don’t even like tattoos.”

Jaime leaned against her dresser while she put on her shoes. “You could get my name tattooed on your ass.”

She rolled her eyes.

“We could get matching ones,” he suggested. He spent a moment looking at the small of her back and imagining his name inked across her bare flesh. He thought about kissing the spot just above where he dress began. He wondered if it would make her shiver.

“I need to go. Did you have Pod bring the car around?” She turned to pat down her hair, her long bare back exposed to Jaime. She sighed then shrugged. “It’ll be fine.”

If she wasn’t going to invite him, he was going to invite himself. He certainly couldn't let her be alone with Ramsay. He needed to protect her. “Give me ten minutes.” It only took him eight minutes to change into the perfect suit, fix his hair and stupidly match his tie to her dress. In fifteen they were in one of the Lannister cars being driven towards Lannisport.


	2. Brienne's Night on the Town

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Standard disclaimers about unbeta-ed, poor writing, giant plot holes.

Jaime was angry when he realized they were going to a dance club and not a country club. He blamed her for it and they’d gotten into a raging argument in the back of the car. He had said horrible things about Renly. He had asked her questions about Renly, sex with Renly, what Renly looked like naked. He had asked about the Bet, about Ron and Hyle. By the time the arrived, Brienne was annoyed and exhausted.

She sat down between Margaery and Ramsay, leaving Jaime to fend for himself. She ordered a drink. Other people did that, drank alcohol when they were upset, just to calm down. She could do it too. She felt her phone vibrate. She looked down. Jaime was texting her. She ignored him. She talked to Ramsay about hygiene requirements for tattoo needles. He really wasn’t that awful.

She ordered another drink. Loras elbowed Renly who looked pointedly at her, then down at her drink. She ignored him too. She talked to Margaery about her brothers. She ordered another drink. She felt Jaime glaring at her. She ignored him. She asked Ramsay about his interest in hunting. Margaery sent her a questioning glance. She ignored that too. She was only too glad to leave the table when Ramsay asked her to dance.

The music was loud and throbbing. She couldn’t hear anything Ramsay was saying. He was dancing too close. She kept trying to move away and it felt as if he were following her, pressing her. She felt a hand around her waist. _Jaime_. He pulled her away from Ramsay. She wanted away from Bolton, but she didn’t want Jaime. She headed to the ladies’ room to escape them both.

It was much quieter although she could still hear the pounding music. It was giving her a headache. She splashed water on her face. Some woman handed her a paper towel, then all activity stopped as the door swung open and Jaime stepped inside.

“Wench 一 what do you think you’re doing?” Jaime said. The women cleared the path between them.

She wadded up the paper towels and threw them at him. “My name is Brienne, and I’m trying to have a night out with my friends.” What was he doing in the ladies’ anyway?

“Is Renly what has you so upset? Decided you want him back after all? Trying to make him jealous by getting drunk and grinding on Bolton?”

She wanted to punch him. “I was not _grinding_ on Ramsay Bolton. We were dancing.”

“But you admit you were trying to make Renly jealous?” Jaime took a step towards her.

A Dornish girl in a gold dress joined the conversation, “If you’re going to make a man jealous, honey, you need to do more than dance with another man.” Brienne heard murmurs of approval from the other women who were standing back to watch the show.

Brienne ran her hand through her hair and asked Jaime, “What does it even matter?”

The Dornish girl’s friend in red piped up, “There is an art to making someone jealous, and this blond guy seems to know all about jealous, girl.” More murmurs of approval. “I’m jealous right now of that dress.”

Brienne looked over at the other women. She tilted her head towards Jaime who hadn’t taken his eyes off of her. “He picked it out for me.”

Jaime took another step closer. “I didn’t pick out that dress so you could wear it for another man.”

Dornish Red went on, “He’s got good taste. So you’ve got the dress, you’ve got the legs, but why you want to make another man jealous when you got this one following you into the ladies’ room?”

“No one is making anyone else jealous,” Brienne sighed.

Jaime took another step towards her. They were inches apart. She could feel his breath on her skin.

Dornish Gold joined the fray, “You could have fooled me.”

Dornish Red nodded in agreement. “Looks like jealous to me, green-eyed and everything.”

“Damn right,” Jaime whispered. Then his hands one hand was around her waist and the other around her back and his mouth was on hers.

His lips were hot and demanding over hers. His forearm pressed into her spine and his fingers splayed between her shoulder blades, his skin on her skin. He tasted of liquor and citrus and Jaime. Her thighs trembled.

“Oh girl, you got him now.” The voice of Dornish Gold made her come to her senses.

She pushed Jaime away. “Don’t. I don’t want to do this with you.” Her hands were shaking. “I can’t do this with you.” She shoved past him and went back into the club.

She made her way back to Margaery and drank the shot sitting in front of her friend. She ordered another. She downed it before Jaime made his way back to the table. The night couldn’t get any worse. Her head began to swim.

The music was so loud and she was so thirsty. She wanted water but there were only shots. Loras was adjusting the strap on her dress and Renly was patting her neck with napkin. Jaime was holding her and all she wanted to do was touch his hair. So she did. Margaery asked her if she felt safe to going home. She laughed. Of course Jaime was safe. He was Jaime. The car was moving and it was making her sick. She was laying down and Jaime’s hands were in her hair. He was holding her and they were going up. There was water on her dress and then she was wearing Jaime’s t-shirt and he was tucking her in.

\--

Jaime held Brienne up as they stumbled into the hotel room. She was a mess and he didn't want to take her home to Casterly Rock in her current state. He'd gotten a room for them. At least she hadn't thrown up in the car, although it had been touch and go for a few moments. The elevator wasn't much better. He'd have to tell her later that he could hold his alcohol better.

She slumped against his shoulder. “You have such pretty hair, Jaime. How do you have such pretty hair?”

Jaime rolled his eyes. She had asked him that at least a dozen times. “I wash it.”

He sat her down on the bed and went to get her a glass of water. She'd regret this in the morning.

“I wash my hair, but it never looks as good as yours. Loras has nice hair too. Don't you think Loras has nice hair?” she called out to him.

He came back in the room and handed her the water. “Drink this,” he ordered. “Loras probably wears a wig.”

She choked on her water, spilling the remainder of the glass down the front of her dress. “He doesn't wear a wig. He used to spend a lot of time in the bathroom working on his hair.”

He felt unreasonably annoyed that he finally kissed her and all she wanted to discuss was Loras Tyrell's hair. Why did she have to remind him that she had lived with Loras anyway? He took the glass to fill it up again. She really needed to hydrate. He called to her from the bathroom, “Loras’ hair isn't as nice as mine. I never have to spend time staring in the mirror to get it to look good. I have naturally good hair.” As he walked out of the bathroom he found Brienne stepping out of her dress. She was standing there wearing only her panties and heels. He almost dropped the water. “What in the seven hells are you doing?” he managed to choke out.

“It was all wet and I didn't like it.” She sat down.

Jaime looked at the mostly naked woman on the bed and pinched the bridge of his nose. The gods must hate him. Topless Brienne in heels was an image that would never leave his brain. His cock was rock hard and she was about to pass out.

He handed her the water. “Drink this now. Don't spill it. Don't not say another word until you've finished.”

She nodded.

He took off his dress shirt and t-shirt. She would never forgive him if she woke up naked. She handed him the empty cup. “Can I talk now?” she asked.

“You can talk after you put this on,” he said as he handed her the t-shirt. “And only if you shut up about Loras Tyrell.”

She turned it inside out, then tried to stick her head through an arm hole. It was particularly chilly in the room and her nipples had hardened. The gods didn't just hate him, they actively wanted to destroy him. He helped her on with the shirt, thankful to just have her covered.

“No Loras' hair. What about your hair? Can I talk about your hair?”

"No, you may not discuss my hair. You should, however, take off your shoes.” He would do it for her but he didn't trust himself to touch her legs and stop.

She fell back to lay half on the bed. She kicked one leg in the air and sent a shoe flying. “I hate these shoes, Jaime. Why do you always make me wear heels?” She lifted the other leg. The second shoe missed him by inches.

He went to the side of the bed to pull down the covers. “You have nice legs. You look good in heels.”

She sat straight up. “I look like a drag queen in heels. Is that why you like me in heels? Because I look like a drag queen? Loras always said Renly only liked me because I look like a drag queen.”

He pulled her off the bed and led her to the side so she could lay down under the covers. “Loras Tyrell is a complete idiot. You do not look like a drag queen.” He covered her up and sat down on the bed beside her. He brushed the hair off her forehead. “You are going to be miserable tomorrow, Brienne Tarth.”

She sunk down into the covers. “You have such pretty hair, Jaime. And pretty eyes too.”

“Yes, I’m very pretty. Now close your pretty eyes and go to sleep.”

She nodded and closed her eyes.

He stood up and stripped down to his boxer briefs. He picked up her dress off the floor. He went into the bathroom to get a glass of water. He looked at himself in the mirror. He looked down at his bulging underwear, the strength and fullness of his erection indeed. “You cannot touch her. She’s drunk. She’s passed out. No matter that she just looked hotter than any woman you’ve ever seen. You cannot touch her.” His cock wasn’t listening. He thought of Myranda Royce naked. He thought of Genna and Emmon conceiving Red Walder. He thought of Lancel trying to dance. Oh, that did it. _Lancel Lannister, erection killer_. He turned off the lights and climbed into the other side of the bed. He turned away from her.

“Jaime?”

“You’re supposed to be sleeping, Brienne.”

“Why did you kiss me?”

As if this was the time for that discussion. He inhaled. “Because I wanted to.”

He felt her hand rest on his shoulder. He felt her rolling over to face him. The gods were just fucking with him now. “Are you going to do it again?” she asked.

 _Do not roll over. Do not roll over. Do not touch her_. “Do you want me to?” His cock was in league with the gods in wreaking vengeance on him. Traitorous piece of flesh. He thought of Lancel dancing again. It didn’t work.

“It was a very nice kiss, Jaime. Thank you. The best kiss ever.” She was quiet for a moment before removing her hand from his shoulder. “Kissing you wasn’t like kissing Renly.” She shifted on the bed to turn away from him. She whispered, “Jaime, I don’t want to be hurt again.”

He rolled over the and willed himself not to gather her close. “I’m not going to hurt you, Brienne.”

She turned back to him swiftly, her eyes open and sad in the dim light. “It’s okay, Jaime. We can’t choose who we love.” She lifted a hand up to touch his face but passed out before she could reach him. Jaime thanked the gods for that small mercy.

She looked so young in her sleep, relaxed. He wanted to stroke her face, run his thumb across her plump bottom lip. Instead, he went back to arguing with his cock. He tried to imagine Walder Frey having sex. Olenna Tyrell naked. Stannis Baratheon stripping. Cersei Baratheon...he thought for a moment longer. He laughed softly. _Cersei Baratheon, erection killer._ He considered telling Tyrion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of this really does end up with a fake engagement. I promise. 
> 
> I'd originally written the bathroom scene from the POV of Dornish Red, but that didn't work. So I went with Brienne and I'm not sure that worked either. So many struggles with this.
> 
> Be free, fic bit, be free and stop haunting my google docs.


	3. The Morning After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brienne wakes up the next morning... And Jaime behaves badly.

Brienne woke to find Jaime asleep beside her. She glanced at the unfamiliar surroundings. They seemed to be in a hotel room. Her phone was vibrating. Her head was pounding. She checked her texts.

`Margaery: Did J get u home? Lt me know your ok`

`Renly: U OK?`

`Unknown: B, its Ramsay. Sorry u left. We shud talk tats`

Jaime rolled towards her, flopping his hand on her stomach. Brienne checked under the covers. She was wearing Jaime’s undershirt and her panties. He was shirtless, his golden shoulder exposed. She dared not check to see if he was wearing anything else. His pants were neatly folded over the back of a chair. Her dress lay on top of it. She picked his hand up by the wrist and moved it back to his side of the bed. His phone began vibrating. Her mouth felt like she’d eaten ashes. She leaned her head back against the headboard and absently rubbed her forehead. Why was the air conditioner so loud? Her stomach roiled. Jaime’s phone continued to vibrate. She reached over and pushed at his arm with her index finger. “Jaime.”

He opened one perfect green eye and looked at her. He blinked and his lips curved into a smile.

“Jaime. Your phone.”

He rolled over, grabbed it and handed it to her. She looked at the screen. Tyrion was calling. She answered.

“Hello.”

“Brienne?”

“Yes.” _Why was he shouting?_ She pulled the phone away from her ear.

“Is Jaime there?”

Instead of replying, she held the phone out to Jaime. He scooted towards the edge of the bed away from her.

“Come on, Jaime. It’s Tyrion.”

He shook his head at her. She laid the phone down on the bed between them and tapped the screen.

“Tyrion, Jaime’s here. You’re on speaker. There's no need to shout.”

_“Where are you two?”_

Brienne looked at Jaime and shrugged. She had no idea.

Jaime answered, “In bed.”

Tyrion laughed. _“I was hoping for something a little less specific, brother.”_

“Not like that,” she tried to clarify.

Jaime arched his brow at her. “Not like what?”

Tyrion laughed again, _“Whatever it’s like, Father will soon be looking for you both. I can cover for you, but it’s going to cost.”_

Brienne ran her fingers along her eyebrows. She placed her hand on her stomach and gave serious thought to vomiting. “Don’t _you_ owe _me_ , little man?”

Jaime sat up in bed.

_“You’re right, Brienne, that I do. Jaime, however, is going to owe me big time.”_

Vomiting was bad. It ate away at the tooth enamel. She tried to convince herself that she wasn’t going to be sick.

“What do I care if Father knows I spent the night in a hotel? I’m a grown man,” Jaime challenged.

A hotel. It was definitely a hotel. A nice hotel from the looks of it. Maybe just brushing her teeth would help.

_“Think about it, Jaime. If Father knows you spent the night in a hotel with a woman, he’ll be announcing your engagement.”_

Brienne’s stomach roiled again. She slid down under the covers and pulled the pillow over her head. Jaime grabbed it away from her, grinned and waggled his eyebrows.

“Well, since Brienne is probably pregnant with my love child, we should probably announce our engagement anyway.”

Brienne looked at him, eyes wide. He was joking. He had to be joking. She lifted the covers and checked again. She would know if she lost her virginity, wouldn’t she? No, she definitely had not had sex. But had she said something to him? Oh gods, had she kissed him? Heat flooded her face.

"Gotta go Tyrion, catch you later." He tapped the phone to end the call. “So what do you say, wench? Shall we get married now so our baby will be born within a respectable time?”

She ran to the bathroom and became violently ill.

\--

Jaime checked his texts while Brienne took a quick shower. She came out of the bathroom a few moments later, hair wet and wearing one of the hotel bathrobes. She looked better than she had a few moments ago. Well, at least less green.

“You okay?” Jaime asked.

She nodded.

He raised a brow. “Most women don’t react quite so violently to a marriage proposal. I mean, I wouldn’t have been surprised if you’d hit me, but vomiting seems a bit much.” 

“Shut up.”

“Ah, that’s the wench I know and plan to marry. Don’t you remember declaring your undying love to me last night?” he grinned.

“I did no such thing. I don’t have undying love for you.” She wrapped the robe about her a little tighter, her cheeks flushing a familiar shade of red.

“Oh yes, you did. You told me how very _pretty_ I am, that you’re completely in love with me. You told me _all_ your secrets.”

The color drained from her face. He knew all of Brienne’s looks. He’d never seen her pale and stricken before. She sat down on the end of the bed and looked at him.

“What did I tell you?” she whispered.

“Everything.” She put her face in her hands. He had to know her secrets. He had the advantage. He took a shot in the dark. “You told me about Renly.”

She dropped her hands from her face and looked at him. “You cannot tell Jaime, you of all people should know why you cannot tell. Promise me you won’t tell?” she pleaded.

That was a definite hit. He scooted closer to the edge of the bed. “Oh, I have no plans to tell anyone about Renly.” She looked relieved but wary. He pushed a little more. “Now the other secrets you told me…” He smirked.

She stared at her hands. “What else did I tell you?” She whispered.

“What else do you think?” 

“Jaime,” she looked into his eyes. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I promised not to tell. I promised your father.”

His father? That was interesting. What secrets did his father have? Did Tywin secretly murder someone and only Brienne knew? If he had, Tywin would let that leak just to frighten people and he doubted Brienne would cover up a murder. Jaime leaned towards her. He ran his index finger over her wrist. “I know it all.” He kept his voice low and silky.

She looked down at her arm and shivered. “You can’t tell, Jaime. You _can’t_. He'd be so disappointed in me.”

He tested the waters. “Maybe you need to convince me not to…” he let his voice trail off.

She pulled her hand away and stood up to face him. She crossed her arms. He laid back on the bed, hands behind his head.

“What do you want?” she growled.

He bent one knee. “What are you offering?” Just how big were these secrets she was keeping?

She looked at him. He rocked his knee back and forth. She ran her hands through her hair, her eyes wide.

Her phone rang. She grabbed it and answered. “Hello…Oh, hi Ramsay.”

Jaime sat up.

Brienne turned away from him and walked to the other side of the room. “Yeah. I got your text. I’m sorry I had to leave. I didn’t feel well.”

He walked up to stand directly behind her. She turned around and bumped into him. She put her finger on his chest to push him away. He stood fast. She shot him a dirty look. “You're right. I never go to a tanning bed...Dinner?...I, uhmm...”

Jaime grabbed her hand and shook his head once. She looked into his eyes. He mouthed the word, _No_. He was not going to let her go on a date with Ramsay Bolton.

“I’m sorry. I can’t I have plans…”

Jaime squeezed her hand to cut her off. He pointed at her then touched his chest. He mouthed, _you and me_.

She furrowed her brow. “I have plans with Jaime.”

He shook his head again, pointed at her and touched his chest. He took her hand and tugged on the third finger of her left hand, circling it with his own. He raised both brows at her and looked at the phone. She closed her eyes. “Sorry, Ramsay.” She opened her eyes and looked straight at him. “Jaime and I are…”

He tugged on her third finger again, nodding and grinning.

“...engaged.”

He grabbed her phone. “Don’t call her again, Bolton.” He ended the call and threw the phone on the bed. So much for that. The man wouldn’t have the balls to go up against a Lannister.

“Why did you make me do that, Jaime?”

“Because I told you before, you will never date Ramsay Bolton.”

She tightened the belt of her robe. It suddenly occurred to him that the only things between them were her bathrobe and his boxers. She wasn’t drunk anymore. That gave his cock ideas.

“Yes, but now he’s going to tell people we’re engaged. He’ll probably call Theon and Theon will tell Robb Stark and Robb will tell Sansa and Sansa will tell Margaery and Margaery will tell Loras who will tell Renly, not to mention Catelyn.” She hit his shoulder. “And if Catelyn knows, she’ll tell Ned and if Ned knows, he’ll ask your father about it and then what? Then what? You know he wants you to get married and have children, Jaime.” She was poking his shoulder to punctuate each sentence. Her skin was so warm. With each blow her robe gaped open a little more. He could see such an expanse of freckles. “Then what do we do?”

“What?” He could see the small pulse throbbing in her neck. He wanted to kiss it.

“What do we do when your father finds out?” She looked furious.

“Finds out what?” She smelled like melons. Fresh melon soap. If he leaned in just a little, he could lick her neck.

She ground her teeth. “That we are engaged.”

His palms itched. He wanted to throw her on the bed and fuck her. He wanted to lick her head to toe. “Who cares?” What was she even talking about?

“I care.” She turned away from him and speared her fingers through her hair.

He took a deep breath. He tried to argue with his cock. His cock was smarter. “Brienne…” he began.

She dropped her hands to her stomach. “I’m going to be sick.” She ran to the bathroom.


	4. Tyrion and Tywin Have a Chat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While I'm posting this chapter first, the events in it actually occur a little before the next chapter, but in reading it, I like this one first.
> 
> Since it's so short, I'll try to post the next one late today or early tomorrow.
> 
> PS, remember Brienne got Tywin a FitBit type monitor that also reads his heart rate and he's become obsessed with checking it.

Tywin had called him into the study. Jaime and Brienne still hadn’t returned from Lannisport and there were no scheduled meetings. There were no papers on the desk. Tyrion readied the lie on his lips, waiting for him to ask about Jaime.

“I received had the most interesting telephone call from Roose Bolton this morning,” his father began.

Tyrion was taken off guard. “Roose,” he prompted. “Some problem with the leatherworks?”

Tywin checked his watch and steepled his fingers. “He seemed to feel he had been remiss in sending his congratulations concerning Jaime’s impending nuptials. He wanted to rectify the situation. As a matter of etiquette, of course.”

“Father 一 ” Tyrion began.

Tywin cut him off. “It appears that Ms. Tarth personally informed Ramsay Bolton of the engagement this morning. I asked Varys to send either or both of them to see me, but neither of them returned home from their outing last night. Varys seems to believe that they spent the night in a hotel room. _Together_.”

Tyrion swallowed his perfectly concocted lie about a slippery bridge, a sprained wrist and a goat. He would use that another time. He had no idea how Roose Bolton and an engagement had come along.

Tywin continued, “You can imagine my displeasure at learning of my own son’s engagement from Roose Bolton. Surely, I thought, he must be mistaken. Then I received a second call from none other than _Ned Stark_. You know how I despise Ned Stark.” Tywin’s eyes narrowed. “Stark had the gall to imply that Jaime had somehow manipulated Ms. Tarth into a relationship and she should spurn his advances. He stated that he and I should have a discussion ‘man to man’ about how to properly terminate the betrothal. I was forced to contradict him and state affirmatively that the understanding between Jaime and Ms. Tarth was based on mutual affinity and affection and that the entire Lannister family supported the match.” Tywin leaned forward at that, again checking his watch. “So, Tyrion, _where_ is your brother?”

Tyrion tried to think of a way to save them, but he was at a complete loss. “They are driving back from Lannisport now.” Had Brienne really told Ramsay Bolton that she and Jaime were engaged? “I’m sure it’s all some misunderstanding. Perhaps Ramsay misheard.”

“How does one misunderstand the words ‘Jaime and I are engaged?’” Tywin asked. “No matter. I announced the engagement to Stark. They will be wed.” Tywin made the hand motion that indicated Tyrion was dismissed. Before he turned away, Tyrion caught his father checking his watch.


	5. Jaime Makes Things Worse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jaime and Brienne head home...and Catelyn calls.

Brienne was curled up in the back corner of the limo when her phone began vibrating. It was Catelyn. She guiltily hit 'ignore'. She felt horrible. Jaime seemed to think the whole thing was one great joke. She shot him a baleful glance. She'd already ignored calls from Renly, Loras, Margaery, Sansa and Arya. 

Her head hurt. Her eyes burned. Her stomach roiled. She’d gotten drunk and told him about Renly. She’d told him about Tywin’s heart attack as well. She’d probably told him about Sansa’s crush on Sandor Clegane, Jon Snow’s fling with Ygritte Wild, Tyrion’s relationship with Tysha, Robb and Roslin, Robb and Jeyne, Theon’s impotency problems, Margaery’s breast augmentation, Arya skipping dance class so she could take up fencing, everything. Before leaving the hotel, Jaime had said he wouldn't tell, but it wasn't just a matter of _telling._ It was a matter of him _knowing_. So many people had trusted her with their secrets and she was a failure. A complete failure. Her phone began to vibrate. Catelyn again. Brienne couldn’t 'ignore' her twice.

“Hello?” She answered.

“Brienne, it’s Cat.”

She tried to fake her way through. Maybe Catelyn was calling for a different reason. “Hey, Catelyn, how have you been?”

“Brienne 一 I heard some most disturbing news this morning.” Brienne covered her eyes and kicked Jaime. He grabbed her foot and held on. Catelyn continued, “News about you and Jaime Lannister.”

She tried to jerk her foot away, but he held fast, laughing. She narrowed her eyes at him. “Oh, you wanted to talk to Jaime? Let me hand him the phone.” She held out her phone. He pressed himself against the door of the limo. He had to release her foot in order to wave his hands in front of him in the classic “No” signal. Her foot released, she put the phone back to her ear. “Wait Catelyn, he’s right here, let me put you on speaker phone.”

Jaime made as if to cover his ears.

Catelyn spoke through the phone, “ _Well, I didn’t exactly want to speak with Jaime, but I wouldn’t mind giving him a piece of my mind_.”

Jaime pinched the bridge of his nose. “Hello Catelyn, how have you been?”

“ _I’m just fine, Jaime. The person to be concerned about is Brienne. Margaery called Sansa this morning to tell her that Ramsay Bolton had called her to say that Brienne had told him that she is now engaged to you_.”

Brienne mouthed to him, _I told you so_. She crossed her arms over her chest. She looked at him and then pointed her chin at the phone. She wasn’t going to answer. He could deal with this.

Jaime punted, “Why is Ramsay calling Margaery? I didn’t know they were close.”

Brienne rolled her eyes. He shrugged his shoulders.

“ _Ramsay had asked Margaery for Brienne’s number because he wanted to ask her out. Not that I’m fond of that Bolton boy. Brienne could do better. But Ramsay called Margaery furious that he put her in the position of asking out Jaime Lannister’s fiancée_.”

Jaime smirked.

Brienne spoke in defense of her friend, “It wasn’t Margaery’s fault. She didn’t know.”

“ _So you are engaged?_ ”

Brienne wasn’t going to answer that. She looked at Jaime expectantly. He inhaled as if he were about to explain.

“ _Wait. ...What_?”

They heard voices in the background. Catelyn came back to the phone.

“ _Ned just said he spoke to your father, Jaime, and Tywin said that you and Brienne have been a couple for quite some time and you’ve just kept it private but that the entire Lannister family is thrilled that you’re getting married. Brienne, have you been secretly engaged all along? When you were at Winterfell, you said there was nothing between you and Jaime. You told me quite clearly that it wasn’t_ like that _. You would never marry a_ Lannister.”

Jaime’s eyes narrowed and he set his jaw. This wasn't going well.

Brienne thought about throwing up again. She tried to explain, “Catelyn, really there’s just been a mix up 一”

Jaime cut her off, “And why wouldn’t she marry a Lannister, Catelyn? Is there something wrong with marrying a Lannister?”

“ _Jaime, you know what I mean,_ ” Catelyn responded.

Brienne could see that Jaime was in the middle of a full outrage. She checked the car for motion sickness bags.

“No, Catelyn, I’m not sure that I _do_ know what you mean.” Jaime could sound much like Tywin when he chose.

There were no bags. She toyed with the idea of vomiting on Jaime’s jacket. It had pockets.

“ _Jaime, you know very well what I mean. You’re all wrong for Brienne_.”

“Oh, am I not wealthy enough? Not successful enough? Not handsome enough? What exactly is so wrong about me?”

Brienne thought about throwing up on Jaime.

They could hear Catelyn arguing with Ned in the background; then she came back to the phone. “ _Well, Jaime, for one, you’re too_ old.”

Jaime reared back. “I am not t _oo old_. That’s like saying Tyrion is _too short._ You think Brienne can’t love me because I’m too old?”

Brienne interrupted, “Catelyn, if you just let me explain 一 ”

Jaime was having none of it. “Yes, Brienne, why don’t you explain to Catelyn how you’re madly in love with me, that my age doesn’t matter and that we’ve been secretly engaged for months now?”

“Gods, Jaime, can you ever just shut up? You’re making the whole situation worse.”

“ _Brienne, are you okay_?” Catelyn asked.

“My fiancée is fine, Catelyn. Just _fine_. We’ll see you at the wedding.”

Jaime tapped the screen to end the call.

Brienne started banging her head against the back of the front seat. “Oh, gods, oh gods, oh gods.”

Pod lowered the partition, “Did you need something, Ser...m’am?”

“I might need a walker seeing as how old I am,” Jaime answered. "Maybe a newspaper to shake at the neighbor children who end up on the lawn."

Pod coughed. “Uhm. Just let me know.” He started to raise the partition. “Ah, Sansa Stark has started a westernet page for your wedding planning. Congratulations.”

Brienne really thought she might throw up on them both.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a caution, I'm trying to lower expectations rather than fish for compliments. I have totally cherry-picked the salvageable parts so this is really a case where the parts are greater than the sum of the whole.


	6. Tywin Gets Involved

Tywin stared at the pair seated before him. Brienne looked as if she may vomit. Jaime looked annoyed. Neither looked like a newly engaged couple. He decided to control the conversation by making them speak.

“Jaime,” he began, “is there something you’d like to share?” Gods, he sounded like a school teacher.

Jaime crossed his arms. “No,” he replied.

Tywin turned to Brienne and arched his brow.

“Mr. Lannister, it’s all a mistake,” she began to explain.

Jaime interrupted, “Of course, it’s a mistake. No one would ever think you could possibly want to marry me. I’m too old.”

Brienne turned to Jaime, “Could you please, please, shut up? It’s your big stupid mouth that got us into this mess. I am trying to get us out if you would just shut up.”

Jaime poked her arm. “Wench, it was not my big stupid mouth that got us anywhere. Technically, it was yours. Why do you want to date Ramsay Bolton, anyway?”

She kicked his ankle. “I do not want to date Ramsay Bolton. I was going to turn him down. You’re the one who made me tell him we were engaged.”

“Oh, like just telling a cretin like that ‘no’ is enough. I told you about his skin fetish. He would have kept pursuing you. I saved you,” Jaime argued.

“Saved me? Saved me? Is that what you were doing when you told Catelyn Stark that I was in love with you and that you’d see her at the wedding? I feel so completely saved,” she huffed.

“I only told her that because she said I was old. Old. I’m not too old for you. I could marry you and keep you pregnant for the next fifteen years if I wanted. You’ll probably die of vegetable overload long before I do and I’ll be left to raise our children alone,” Jaime snapped back.

Brienne glared at him. “If I do die before you, you can believe that I would ensure our children would be raised by someone who would be a good parent like Catelyn or Stannis. You’d be a terrible parent.”

“Stannis? You’re going to let Stannis raise our children? He has the personality of a lobster,” Jaime raged.

Brienne narrowed her eyes. “Stannis is an excellent father. Do you even know his daughter? Shireen is a lovely young girl. She is smart, kind and level-headed. She’s not even remotely spoiled.”

“Are you suggesting that I’d spoil our children? That you’re refusing to marry me because I’d make a bad father? I’d make a fantastic father. Our children are going to like me so much more than they like you,” Jaime countered.

Brienne shook her head in disbelief. “Being a good parent is not about making your children like you. It’s about teaching them right from wrong and giving them skills they need to succeed.”

“Arthur and Joanna won’t need skills to succeed. They’ll be Lannisters,” Jaime responded.

“Arthur? What kind of a name is Arthur? Galladon and Joanna will be Tarths,” Brienne stated. “And they’ll need skills to succeed because they are not going to grow up to be selfish, spoiled brats like you.”

“Oh, you want our children to be stupid, stubborn and pig-headed like you,” he shouted.

Brienne inhaled.

Tywin cleared his throat. They both turned to him. “From the topic of this argument, I am to understand that the ceremony should be held sooner rather than later?” He made no move to hide his glace at Brienne's midsection, making it obvious that he was checking to see if she was with child. He refrained from rubbing his hands together. It wouldn’t do to appear gleeful.

“Oh, yes, the ceremony should be sooner rather than later because I’m getting older with every passing moment,” Jaime replied.

“Why are you even saying things like that?” Brienne responded. “We do not need to get married.”

“Ms. Tarth 一 I may be old-fashioned, but I will not have my grandchild not be born out of wedlock. I must insist on a wedding, as I’m sure your Father would have.” He hoped invoking her father would push things along.

“Mr. Lannister 一 Jaime and I are not engaged and I am not pregnant. It’s all a misunderstanding, really.” She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She opened them again. “It really is ridiculous. I’ll call Ramsay and Catelyn to explain.”

“Be sure you tell Catelyn you’re jilting me because I’m too old and don’t let Ramsay near you with a tattoo needle,” Jaime said snidely.

“I am not jilting you because you’re too old and I am not getting a tattoo,” Brienne ground out.

Tywin slapped his hands down on the desk. “While I’m thrilled to hear that the engagement is back on, I would prefer that you not get a tattoo. Jaime, for the sake of propriety, I’ve taken the liberty of having your items moved to the gatehouse until after the ceremony.” He stood up from the desk. “I believe it is time that I go read reports. It has been an eventful day.” He met Brienne’s eye and glanced down at his watch, hoping she’d interpret that as him needing to rest and avoid stress.

She paled a little and nodded, “Of course. Reading reports is important. I’m sorry to have argued. We can discuss this more civilly later.”

Tywin waited until he arrived in his rooms to smile. Things were finally moving in the right direction. He just had to prevent them from messing up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been horribly busy and a smidge under the weather. So, usual disclaimers :)
> 
> I promise to respond to the comments on the last chapter soon.


	7. Looking Through the Eyes of Bronn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Standard disclaimers. :)

Bronn looked up when Jaime stormed into Tyrion’s study. They’d just sat down for a drink and Tyrion had wanted to vent about some new Lannister drama. The Lannisters always had drama.

“Am I too old?” Jaime demanded.

Bronn shrugged, “Too old for what?” He poured Jaime a drink.

“Too marry Brienne, of course,” Jaime looked at him as if he were stupid. Gods, the Lannisters were arrogant bastards.

He’d come to the Rock specifically to find out if the rumors about Jaime and the annoying assistant with the amazing legs were true. They were. He wasn’t actually surprised. “Well,” Bronn asked, “how old are you?”

Tyrion grinned.

“I’m thirty-seven,” Jaime answered.

Bronn whistled. “And how old is she?”

“Twenty-two,” Tyrion provided.

Bronn leaned forward. “I like my women a little more seasoned than that, but if she’s willing to have you, I wouldn’t say you’re too old. She’ll probably end up wiping the drool off your chin, of course, but she might not mind. She’s the honorable type.”

“Brother,” Tyrion began, “I have heard from several sources about your engagement to Brienne.” Tyrion’s phone had been going off all morning. It gave a man a headache. The little man had finally put it on silent.

“There’s also a webpage for the wedding planning. It plays ‘Get Me to the Church on Time’ when it loads,” said Bronn. “I texted you a link. Did you see that thing? Pink background and dancing hearts. I got diabetes from looking at it.”

“Pod says that’s Sansa Stark’s doing and I’ve turned off my phone,” said Jaime. “I turned off Brienne’s too. I’m not sure she’s noticed. I should text her.” Jaime grabbed Tyrion’s phone and sent a text.

Bronn looked at Tyrion trying to convey the question, _Is your brother a complete idiot_?

Tyrion grinned. “So that’s why every Lannister in Westeros is calling and texting me instead of you. It seems Daven and Addam had a long term bet about you and Brienne. Daven won and Addam is furious. Genna is interviewing wedding planners. Kevan said Dorna wants him to find out who she should invite to Brienne’s shower, which she is already planning. Where is Brienne so I can ask her?” Tyrion asked.

Jaime shrugged. “She hasn’t responded to that text yet. She’s probably upstairs puking her guts out again. The woman really cannot hold her liquor.”

Tyrion chuckled, “So you’re saying she’s nothing like Cersei?”

Bronn glanced between the brothers. They never discussed their sister. He knew who she was, of course, everyone knew the Prime Minister’s wife. He’d only met her once. She was a drunken bitch.

Jaime just looked at Tyrion, who shook his head. Jaime nodded in response.

Bronn hated it when the Lannister did that silent communication thing. “I knew you were fucking her. Didn’t think you’d marry her though. Is she pregnant?” he asked. “Shouldn’t be drinking if she’s got a bun in the oven.”

Jaime shot him a glare. “No. She is not pregnant. What makes you think we’re fucking?”

“You mean to tell me you’re not?” Bronn asked.

“She’s stubborn, you know. Pig-headed. Stupid. She is far too trusting. She was going to go out with Ramsay Bolton.” Jaime stared at the ceiling.

Bronn had heard about Ramsay Bolton. He liked to fuck and leave a tattoo as a reminder. Word had it Qyburn’s tattoo removal service was thriving just because of Ramsay. “So, you marrying her or not?” he asked.

“She nags like a fishwife. She makes me exercise, eat healthy food. She likes Father, certainly more than I do.” Jaime looked at Tyrion. “She likes you.”

Tyrion asked this time, “Are you going to marry her?”

“Or fuck her?” Bronn added.

Jaime propped his feet up on the table. “I don’t think she wants to marry me. I’m too old. As for fucking her, I’m not sure she wants that either.” He stared at his drink.

Bronn felt a laugh rumbling in his chest. “Oh, she wants to fuck you all right. All those blushes and the slappy-pinchy-smacky. You two want to fuck like rabbits. You should be fucking like rabbits right now.”

Tyrion nodded, “Yes. You should be fucking like rabbits. Why aren’t you?”

Jaime shot Tyrion that glance. Silent Lannister communication again. Bronn reached for the Scotch.


	8. A Conversation in the Sauna

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't particularly like how this ended up. And I wish I had the gumption to re-write it. :)
> 
> But here you go!

Brienne had known that drinking was a mistake. Alcohol never sat well with her. She had to find a way to straighten out this mess, but she could barely think. She’d drunk at least three gallons of water and managed to rehydrate, but she still felt awful. She thought a sauna might help. Wearing her bathing suit and wrapped in a towel she settled on the wooden bench, enjoying the steam. She could feel herself starting to sweat, her hair sticking to her head. She’d just begun to relax when Jaime came wearing a towel around his hips. She shot him a murderous glance. She settled on the other end of the bench. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back.

“Do you want to talk?” he asked.

“No.”

“I want to talk.”

“Go find Tyrion.” She rolled her stiff shoulders.

He sighed, “Do you want me to apologize?”

“I want you to shut up.” She reached up to massage her shoulders.

“I would apologize, but I’m not sorry.”

She opened one eye. “What?”

He grinned. “Knew I could get you to talk.”

“Shut up.” Her muscles ached.

“Come here,” he asked, waving her closer.

“Why?”

“Because you drank like a Lannister last night, you had a rough day and your shoulders ache. I’m going to do something nice for you and rub them. Come here.”

She desperately wanted to kick him. She drank because of him. It had been a rough day because of him. Instead of kicking him, she moved down to the lower bench and sat in front of him, hunching her back over. He reached down and began kneading the muscles in her neck and shoulders.

“Fuck. Your muscles are like rocks.” He pressed his elbow into points on her back. It felt wonderful. She started to relax.

“Well, as you said, I’ve had a rough day, and you’re not even sorry about it. You think it’s funny.”

He chuckled as he pressed his fingers into the muscles at the base of her skull. “It is funny. But it’s a great idea.”

She tightened up.

He tapped the top of her head saying, “Don’t get tense again. Just listen.”

She sighed and dropped her head, giving him better access to her neck. “I’m listening. I’m sure it’s going to be completely stupid, but I’m listening.”

“Hey,” he tugged her hair, “It’s not completely stupid.”

“Fine,” she gave in, “Partially stupid.” She pointed at her neck. “Rub.”

He worked his thumbs over her spine and began kneading her shoulder blades. “You are my best friend Brienne.”

“I’m your only friend,” she tilted her head to one side giving him access to the side of her neck.

He dug the heel of his hand into her muscles. “I am getting older and talking about children today, I might like to have one. Or two.”

She tilted her head to the other side. “You can get a surrogate for that, Jaime.” She’d looked into it for Renly and Loras.

“Why bother with all that when I can just marry you?” he asked.

She dropped her head again and let out a contented sigh. He really was very good at massages. “Completely stupid.”

He began working the muscles between her shoulder blades. “I mean it. We get along. You like my family, hells, you like my family more than I do. You’re happy here. I enjoy your company. You think I’m charming. We’d be great together. We’d have kids with my hair and your eyes.”

“Mmm,” she moaned. “You’re forgetting the whole ‘how babies are made’ part or did you not learn that in school?”

He laughed. “Judging by the way you jumped on me and kissed me last night, I’m pretty sure we could manage it. With some effort.”

She stretched out her arms and yawned. “You kissed me.”

“Fine,” he gave in, “I kissed you. It was a pretty great kiss though, wasn’t it? You said it was your best kiss ever.”

She remembered that kiss. If she hadn’t been flushed from the heat, she would have turned tomato red. It had been the best kiss of her life. She tensed up again. “It was one kiss, Jaime. It doesn’t mean we’re,” she searched for the word, “compatible.” Just because he kissed her didn’t mean he could want her.

“Stop ruining all my good work and relax,” he admonished. “What makes you think we wouldn’t be compatible?” He kept working her muscles.

“I don’t know. How about the fact that the only woman you’ve ever wanted is Cersei?” She cut to the heart of the issue. Jaime may have been with Cersei, but he was still attracted to men.

“I haven’t wanted Cersei in a very long time, Brienne.”

“That doesn’t mean you’d want to be with me. Or that I’d want to be with you.”

He sighed. “You could at least let me try?”

She could feel laughter started to rumble in her chest. He’d kissed her, got them engaged, hinted to his father that she was pregnant and now he wanted to her to give it a try. She imagined test kissing with him trying to determine if he could maintain an erection. She snorted. “Oh yes, you could give it a try. Take me out for a test run. Regularly scheduled sessions to see if you can make the magic happen.” She was becoming hysterical.

He yanked on her hair and she tried to get herself under control. He leaned down to growl in her ear. “I can make the magic happen, wench. You’d better believe I can.”

She reached behind to grab his hand. She hadn’t meant to insult him. Men were so sensitive about that. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh at you. It just sounds so ridiculous.”

He pulled his hand away. “You think being with me would be ridiculous?”

She sighed. “No. You’re my best friend too. You make it sound so nice and comfortable, but I understand that there are things you probably can’t do. That would make both of us miserable. That kind of life, with a husband who couldn’t…” she left the rest unsaid. “It wouldn’t make me happy.” In fact, spending every night in bed with Jaime and knowing he’d never want her would make her miserable.

He leaned down to wrap his arms around her. He rested his chin on her shoulder. “I think you might be surprised at what I can do, Brienne. Just give me a chance.”

She leaned her head back into the crook of his neck. He was Jaime. No matter how many times she told him no, she never really denied him anything. “It’s completely stupid.” His arms tightened around her midsection. She gave in, “Partially stupid, but okay. We can try. I don’t think it will work though, but that’s okay too. I won’t be angry with you.” She rubbed his forearm to comfort him. “So, we stay fake engaged? It will please your father.”

She felt him grin against the back of her head. “No. We stay real engaged and you can jilt me if it doesn’t work.”


	9. Incompatible?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And here is this last little part. I left it in because I like Jaime's recollection of the kiss. :)

Tyrion was waiting for him when he got back to the gatehouse. “So, how did it go?”

Jaime rolled his eyes. “It went.”

“Did it go well? Did you sweep sweet Brienne off of her feet? Has she gone all girlish at the thought of becoming Mrs. Jaime Lannister? Is the engagement on?”a

“Yes, it’s on,” Jaime signed. “For now.”

Tyrion raised his eyebrows. “For now?”

“She’s not swooning at my feet, but she’s not jilting me either. She’s giving it a chance. She wants to find out if we are compatible.”

“Well, you are attached at the hip, you spend almost every moment of every day together. How can you not be compatible?”

Jaime gave Tyrion the side eye.

“Oh,” Tyrion said, “She doesn’t think you’re sexually compatible.” Tyrion laughed. “Brother, first you have to be tested regarding your ability to maintain an erection and now Brienne is questioning your virility as well? Is there something you’re not telling me?

“Shut up, Tyrion. This is not about my virility. My erections are just fine, thank you. Rather she doubts my ability to ‘make the magic happen.’ Who uses a phrase like that anyway?

Tyrion had a quick far away look in his eyes before responding. “So, she thinks you’re bad at it? Uhm. Are you?”

“No. No. I am not bad at it,” Jaime denied.

“Let’s have a moment of honesty. Has there been anyone since Cersei?”

Jaime leaned his head back. “No.”

“Has there been anyone but Cersei?”

“No.”

“So perhaps…” Tyrion trailed off.

“I am not bad at it, Tyrion. I am not.”

“Then why would Brienne think you are?”

Jaime stood up. “I told her about Cersei.”

“Oh. Tonight?”

Jaime looked out the window. “No, it was months ago.”

“What inspired that?”

Jaime shrugged. “She’s Brienne. She looks at me and I bare my soul.”

“It didn’t send her running screaming?”

“No.”

“So, what then?”

Jaime shrugged, remembering his attempt at kissing her goodnight. It was a disaster. First, he’d stepped on her foot. She tilted her head the wrong way and they smashed noses. Then she started laughing again. He finally just grabbed her around the waist with one hand and positioned her head with the other and tried to lay the best kiss of his life on her, but he’d fallen off balance and slipped on the wet tile outside the sauna. He had managed to catch himself but his mouth ending up sliding off of hers until he was licking her cheek. He felt like a teenage boy on his first date. “I have no clue.”

“Fucking her into submission is apparently out of the question?” Tyrion chuckled.

“Shut up, little brother,” Jaime warned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading. Letting this go seems to be helping with my writer's block. Yay!
> 
> And thank you for all you're support. This is a wonderful, kind and supportive fandom.

**Author's Note:**

> As per usual, know that I know this isn't my best work, or even close. Thanks though for reading :)


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